


Silver Linings

by sci_fis



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bottom Jared, Dubious Consent, Hurt Jared, M/M, Prostitution, Protective Jensen, Rape/Non-con Elements, Top Jensen, at first, because of the situation, spn-j2-xmas, tagging with this just to give fair warning, this is honestly not dark at all, white collar crime (mostly implied only)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 08:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sci_fis/pseuds/sci_fis
Summary: A case of debt forces Jared to agree to prostitution. Mob boss Mark Pellegrino loans him out to elite white collar criminal Jensen Ackles, who is enigmatic and impossible to read: and who just may surprise Jared in ways that he was definitely not expecting.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 6
Kudos: 136
Collections: SPN J2 Xmas Exchange





	Silver Linings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nisaki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nisaki/gifts).



> Very, very happy holidays to you, my dear recipient! I loved all your prompts so much, and I tried to put in at least a few things that you might like. <3
> 
> Wishing everyone at SPN-J2-Xmas a very wonderful new year, especially the lovely moderators, Oddishly and Glovered, who make this totally awesome fest possible every year. Thank you. <3

** Now **

_I’m really doing this_ , Jared thinks, wiping his damp hands on his jeans as he stands outside the finely polished and intricately carved wooden door. Trust Jensen Ackles to have an office as beautifully elegant and sophisticated as the man himself.

“Jared? Jared Padalecki?”

Jared is startled out of his thoughts as a voice sounds from a smaller door next to the huge intimidating one.

The man in the doorway gives him a quick smile and holds out his hand. “I’m Aldis.”

“Uh, hi. I hope I’m not late.”

“You’re right on time,” Aldis says cheerfully. “Follow me.” After a quick knock on the scary door, he opens it and disappears inside.

This, Jared thinks, is probably the most bizarre way to be properly introduced to someone who might be paying him for sex very shortly.

—

** Then **

His first meeting with Jensen Ackles, one of the most famous art collectors in the city—and also one of its best known white collar criminals, although no law enforcement agency had ever found any evidence against him—could not have gone any worse.

Jared had been kneeling on a plush carpeted floor in a mansion that had been as showy and extravagant as possible, reeking of ill-gotten wealth from every pore. His hands were bound in front of him, and one of Mark Pellegrino’s henchmen had a gun pressed to Jared’s temple. He’d already been clipped over the head with the weapon once, and a thin stream of blood dampened his hair and trailed down the side of his face.

Pellegrino was, in essence, king of the city’s—maybe even the state’s—underworld. And Jared owed him. It was that simple, really.

A lavish lunch had been laid across the largest dining table Jared had ever seen in his life. Despite his situation, his stomach complained quietly of emptiness. He hadn’t eaten since he’d been roughly pulled from his bed in the middle of the night, thrown into a van, and brought to Pellegrino’s lair.

Despite the size of the table, there were only two people dining there: the mob boss himself, and a guest whom Jared had had no problem recognizing. Jensen Ackles looked even more impressive in the flesh than on the internet, wearing a charcoal gray suit that was perfectly tailored to suit the long, lean lines of his body. The two talked too softly for anything they were saying to be clearly audible, but Ackles’ voice was every bit as polished—and sexy, since there was no other word for it—as the rest of him, deep and gravelly with an almost incongruous undercurrent of something suspiciously like good humor.

“What do you say?” Pellegrino said, raising his voice. Both he and Ackles glanced over to where Jared had been forced to kneel beside the extravagantly ornate mantelpiece.

Ackles’ gaze, almost entirely expressionless, grazed Jared’s kneeling form. “Why don’t you ask your prisoner?”

“He’s not a prisoner.” Pellegrino laughed, taking a gulp of beer. “Are you a prisoner, Padalecki?”

Jared said nothing. There was nothing to say.

“He’s a good little bitch who’ll do anything,” Pellegrino continued, “to pay off his very considerable debt.” He glanced at Jared as though looking at an insect crawling on the floor. “Am I right, or am I right?”

“Including what you’re suggesting?” Ackles spoke without giving Jared a chance to respond, for which Jared found himself absurdly grateful.

“Spell it out, Ackles,” Pellegrino said with his trademark grin. “He’ll let you fuck him, however you like and as many times as you like. Isn’t that right, Jared?”

Only Mark Pellegrino could make Jared’s name sound like the most unpleasant curse word.

Jared’s head reeled, and not just from the throbbing cut below his hairline. Pellegrino had hinted at this before: that he’d let his friends use Jared sexually if he didn’t pay his debt. He hadn’t thought it would ever actually come to this.

“How about a little demonstration of your willingness?” Pellegrino said, sounding very much as though he was enjoying himself. He crooked a finger in Jared’s direction. “Crawl over here. Hands and knees. Now.”

Bile rose up in Jared’s throat. Not now, surely. Not like this.

Ackles stood up abruptly, tossing one of Pellegrino’s expensive monogrammed napkins on his barely-touched plate. “He’s a fucking mess. I have far better standards than this.”

Pushing back his chair, he turned to go. “Thanks for lunch, Mark.”

Then, glancing over his shoulder at Jared, he said, “I’ll see you at my place. Five o’clock. Get cleaned up. And don’t be late.”

—

** Now **

“You coming in, or what?” Aldis says from inside.

Jared follows him inside.

The room couldn’t have been more different from the ones in Pellegrino’s mansion. The floor and walls have understated dark paneling, and there’s no sign of any of the ostentatious lavishness of the mob boss’s house. The room has huge glass-paned windows that let the evening sunlight stream in, and the walls are adorned with gorgeous pieces of artwork. One entire wall is lined with books from ceiling to floor. The sight makes Jared feel slightly less uneasy.

Ackles is on the phone, talking quietly into it. He holds up a finger to show that he’s almost done.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Aldis tells Jared in a low voice, so as not to disturb his boss. Giving him another friendly smile, he leaves the room.

Jared turns to look at his retreating figure, almost desperate for the man to to stay, but it’s too late. The door is already closing behind him, suddenly making Jared feel that the room, despite its air of roomy comfort, is about to close in on him and suffocate him.

“Thinking of leaving?” Ackles says dryly from behind him.

Jared turns around, trying to hide his nervousness. “No, sir. Uh, Mr Ackles.”

“Jensen is fine.”

“Jensen, then,” Jared says. He sounds like his voice isn’t making it all the way out of his throat.

“Would you like some coffee? I’ve had a very long day.”

“Uh, sure.”

Jensen goes to a sideboard with a small, efficient-looking coffee machine on it, gesturing to the sofa as he begins to pour two coffees. “Sit.”

Jared obeys, trying not to think too hard about why Ackles is bothering with this show of civility, considering what they’re here for. The sofa is extremely comfortable.

“You hungry?” To Jared’s surprise, Ackles brings over not only the coffee but also a plate of what looks like spring rolls. “I hate Pellegrino’s pretentious food, so I had these delivered. Help yourself.”

Famished, Jared reaches for a roll immediately. “Thank you,” he says. biting into the warm treat. It’s filled with spicy egg and mushrooms. “This is heavenly.”

Ackles grins, as though he’s been personally complimented. “My favorites,” he says, taking one for himself. “So,” he goes on conversationally. “How much do you owe him?”

“Twenty-five grand,” Jared says, looking down at the polished floor. His roll feels like sawdust in his mouth. That didn’t take much time, he thinks. So much for the pleasantries.

“All right,” Ackles says easily. Putting down his half-eaten roll, he goes over to the desk and opens one of the large drawers. He comes back in a minute with a large cream-colored envelope. “Here you go.”

Jared looks up at him, confused. “What?”

“It’s all there. Check it before I have it sent.” Ackles sits down again and takes a long sip of his coffee. “I’d do it online, but I don’t want a money trail linking me to sick assholes like him.”

Jared looks at the envelope on the coffee table, and then back up at Ackles. “You’ll… have it sent to him?”

“Right away, yeah. I assume you don’t want to have to go back there.”

“I—but why?”

“Why what?”

“You’ll send it now? Just like that? We haven’t… we haven’t even discussed the, uh, the terms of the… arrangement?”

“Jared,” Ackles says with a sigh. “He said you’re a prostitute. Anyone can tell that you’re not. This is your first time doing anything like this, isn’t it?”

“I agreed,” Jared says, hating that his voice sounds like a whisper. “I agreed to do it. I… I can’t pay him back otherwise.”

“Why did you borrow money from a sleazeball like that?”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t know it was him. I just saw an ad online. For quick loans. I… I needed it for my tuition. I was… I was going to pay it back on time, but he started demanding it ahead of schedule.”

“You’re in college?”

Jared nods. “I just have my thesis left. In three months, I was going to finish it and get a research assistant’s job. I would have been able to pay him back. He says I violated the terms of the contract because the loan tenure was supposed to end when my classes did, and… and he says the thesis writing period doesn’t count.”

Ackles listens, silent and intent, until Jared lapses into silence. To his horror, he’s almost close to tears. He wipes at his eyes with the heels of his hands, furious with himself. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“It’s all right.” Ackles hands him a glass of water.

Jared holds the glass in both his hands, wrapping his fingers around it tightly to ground himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a minute of silently taking sips of water. “I bet I’m looking hugely unattractive to you right about now.”

“I wouldn’t exactly put it that way.” Ackles’ tone is pretty expressionless. “Look, Jared, I’m not going to mince words here. I won’t deny that I have no moralistic compunctions about paying people for sex. It’s just way less complicated than getting into relationships, which I don’t have time for. Pellegrino told me your rate was five hundred dollars a night.”

Jared winces. Ackles’ blunt words, the starkness of them, scrape at him like a knife.

“For twenty-five thousand, I’d expect service for a few weeks, at least,” Ackles goes on, still somewhat tonelessly. It’s impossible to tell what he might be thinking.

Jared takes another fortifying sip of water. To his surprise, Ackles’ large, warm hand descends on his own.

“Jared, I’d also expect whoever provides that service to be a professional, and to also be very, very willing and comfortable with the arrangement.”

“And I’m not,” Jared says, unable to bear looking at Ackles. The envelope of money lying a foot away from him taunts him with its closeness. So near, and yet… Ackles is clearly about to send him on his way, exasperated with the whole situation.

“No, you’re not,” Ackles says, lightly squeezing Jared’s hand. He lets go with another quiet sigh.

Jared sits frozen in place as Ackles picks up the receiver of a land phone—it looks like an intercom—next to the couch. “Aldis, a moment, please?”

This is it, Jared thinks, as Ackles replaces the phone. He’s going to be sent away, and then… He doubts he’ll survive the night if he goes back to Pellegrino without the money.

“I’ll do it,” he says in a rush. “I… please, don’t send me away, I just—“ He cuts himself off as the door opens and Aldis comes in.

“You about done?” Aldis asks. He doesn’t sound as friendly as he did earlier. His keen gaze takes in the sight of Ackles sitting calmly on the couch, with Jared beside him, probably looking like a wreck.

“Yes,” Ackles says, raising his eyebrows at Aldis’ tone. “You don’t have to sound so disapproving.”

“Yeah. Whatever,” Aldis mutters, sounding very thoroughly disapproving indeed. “So, what’s the prognosis?”

“What it was always going to be.” Ackles picks up the envelope and tosses it to Aldis, who catches it one-handed against his chest.

“Get a receipt, please. In writing.”

“You got it,” Aldis says. He’s smiling again now. “And the kid?” He looks at Jared.

“He’s staying. For now.”

“He is?”

“I am?” Jared says, looking at Ackles in surprise.

“Yep.” Ackles glances at Aldis. “Get going, all right? I don’t want this nasty affair lasting any longer than it has to.”

Once Aldis has left, he turns back to Jared. “Your debt is paid. In full.”

“I… I don’t know what to say, Mr Ackles. I’ll… I’ll do anything you say.”

“Anything?” Ackles raises his eyebrows again.

Jared swallows. “Yeah. I mean it.”

“Be careful what you ask for,” Ackles says lightly. He pushes the plate of rolls toward Jared. “First, I want you to eat. And then we’ll get your head seen to. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“I—what?”

“You’re hurt,” Ackles says, sounding almost gentle. He glances at Jared’s hands. Scrapes from the ropes that had bound him are visible on his wrists, the sleeves of his hoodie not long enough to cover them.

“It… it’s fine.”

“It’s really not.” Ackles scrubs a hand over his face, his expression hardening almost frighteningly. “What he did to you, the way he was treating you… I had a very hard time not smashing my fist through his smug face.”

“I thought you were his friend.”

“I’d be very, very insulted at that, but you don’t know me, so I’ll let it go.” Ackles gets to his feet and returns to his sideboard. This time, he pours himself a finger of scotch.

Jared waits silently, completely unsure about what to expect next.

“I’m not his friend,” Ackles says after downing his drink in one shot. “He’s a fucking sleazeball whom I would happily kill if I hadn’t decided long ago that violence is not my thing.”

He turns away from Jared to pour another drink. “You don’t have to stay,” he says, without turning around. “The only reason I said nothing in front of him was that it’s smarter not to make an open enemy of a cheap little thug like him. He enjoys violence. He thrives on making people suffer for his own petty thrills. He’s a slimy worm who doesn’t deserve any more of our time. Yours or mine.”

He turns back to Jared. “You don’t have to stay,” he says again.

“But… the money. You… you already sent it.”

“He doesn’t have to know, Jared. It’s none of his fucking business now. He got his fucking money, and you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

Ackles shrugs. He walks over to Jared and hands him the glass. “Here, you look like you could use this.”

Jared takes the drink, moving on autopilot. “Why?” he asks again. “It’s… it's a lot of money.”

“Not for me,” Ackles says simply. “I’m not a good guy, as you probably know. I’m no better than Pellegrino, in some ways. But to get someone like you out of his clutches? It’s worth every cent.”

“I don’t know what to say, Mr Ackles.”

“Jensen."

“Jensen,” Jared says quickly, correcting himself. “I don’t… I can’t go back on the deal now. It wouldn’t be right.”

Jensen looks at him sharply, and then nods toward the glass. “Drink?” he says. “If you want to.”

Jared nods, sipping the alcohol. It sends a warm, welcome burn down his throat.

When he sets the glass down, Jensen sits down next to him and cups his face in both his hands. “You want to try this?” he asks.

Jared nods. He’s nervous as hell, his head still hurts, and he can’t imagine several weeks of being used for sex every day, but this man has just done him a huge favor, and saying no doesn’t really seem an option now.

Jensen leans in and kisses him gently, his hands still framing Jared’s face, his thumbs gliding over Jared’s cheekbones.

Jared inhales sharply, his pulse quickening. This is… nothing like the hard and forceful kiss he’d been expecting. It’s just a soft press of lips against his own, the gentle hands on his face and the closeness of Jensen’s warm body, along with the scent of his woodsy, inviting cologne, adding to the pleasure of the moment.

It isn’t just pleasure, Jared thinks, his eyes closing as he involuntarily pushes closer for more. It’s the illusion of safety, along with the absurd idea that Jensen’s caresses are almost _affectionate_.

Jensen’s hands slide from Jared’s face into his hair as their kiss deepens gradually, his fingers tangling in the long strands as he tilts Jared’s face to fit their mouths together at a better angle. His tongue teases at Jared’s lips, asking for more, and Jared gives it to him, parting his lips and gasping as Jensen bites lightly at his lower lip instead of shoving his tongue right in.

“This okay?” Jensen asks against his mouth, not letting go of him, his fingers stroking through Jared’s hair.

“Fuck, yes. _Yes_.” Jared’s hands clutch at the front of Jensen’s shirt—he’s still wearing the crisp white formal shirt he’d worn at lunch—as he silently asks for more.

Jensen smiles. “Easy, tiger.” He gives Jared one more quick kiss, nuzzling his nose against Jared’s before pulling back with a reluctant sound. “You need to rest up first.”

—

Jared awakens with a start, completely disoriented for a moment, before he realizes he’d fallen asleep on Jensen’s couch. 

After that completely unexpected kiss, Jensen had asked Jared to eat and get some rest before excusing himself, saying he had a few things to take care of. Almost weak with hunger and horribly sleep-deprived, Jared had finished off the rolls and curled up on the couch, falling asleep without meaning to.

He sits up, wincing as the movement makes his head throb again, and realizes that someone has put a warm, thick blanket over him. He’d slept better than he had in ages, although it couldn’t have been for more than a couple of hours. The glass windows show that it’s dark outside. A quick glance at his phone screen tells him it’s just past seven in the evening.

The door opens noiselessly, and Jensen enters. “Hey,” he says, seeing Jared awake. “You good? You were pretty much knocked out.”

“I’m sorry,” Jared says. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep.”

“You looked like you needed it.”

“Thanks,” Jared says, feeling his nervousness return a bit. “Uh, so… what now?”

“You still want to stay?”

“I… yes. I want to see this through.”

Jensen gives him a small smile. “That doesn’t exactly sound like enthusiastic consent.”

“You know what I mean,” Jared says quickly, remembering the kiss. “I just… all of this happened so quickly. This time yesterday, I was writing an abstract for a research paper. And now, I just… I haven’t been able to process anything.”

Jensen looks at him, considering. “You’re right. Tell you what. You get some sleep tonight, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

“Really? You don’t mind?”

Jensen grins. “Actually, not at all. I have plans for the night, anyway.”

“What plans?” Jared asks, curious.

“Ask no questions, and you’ll be told no lies.” Jensen reaches over and ruffles Jared’s hair. “I’ll send someone up to take a look at your bruises and show you to your room. Get some rest, kid.”

—

Over breakfast the next morning, Jared hears the news over the large wide-screen TV in Jensen’s dining room: Mark Pellegrino has been arrested on multiple charges of felony after the FBI unexpectedly raided his estate the previous night.

“That was your plan for last night?” he asks Jensen, incredulous. “How did you even get it done so soon?”

Jensen glances at him over the rim of his huge coffee mug. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jensen.” 

“I’m not a morning person, so just shut up and eat your omelette.”

“Jensen,” Jared says again, putting down his glass of orange juice. He slides out of his chair and goes over to Jensen, unsure of what to do or say. “I… how can I ever thank you?”

Jensen sighs, reaching out to him with both arms. “C’mere.” He tugs Jared into his lap, his arms sliding around him, and Jared pushes his face against Jensen’s neck, overwhelmed. He’s shaking with relief, overcome with gratitude, unable to believe that the universe has been so amazingly generous as to put him in Jensen’s path.

“Easy,” Jensen murmurs, holding Jared close and stroking his hair. “Easy. It’s fine. You’re fine.”

—

In the end, it’s three more days before Jared finally finds himself in Jensen’s bed. Three more days of sharing meals and conversations with Jensen, getting to see his art collection, going on walks in the estate’s huge gardens. Three more days of casual touches that get increasingly more familiar and affectionate, three more days of kisses that are incredibly passionate but too few for Jared’s liking—Jensen is absolutely determined to wait until Jared has recovered from his ordeal, and Jared is terrified that he’s going to start falling for Jensen at any moment now. 

Three more days before Jared finds himself on all fours on Jensen’s huge bed, Jensen buried deep inside him. He gasps as Jensen thrusts into him, hard and sure, his arms wrapped tightly around Jared’s waist, holding him securely, his mouth against Jared’s ear.

“You like this?” Jensen asks, his hands gliding up Jared’s chest from behind. He nips at Jared’s ear, his fingertips tweaking Jared’s nipples.

Jared moans in response, thrusting back against Jensen, his hands clawing at the sheets.

“Use your words, baby.” 

“Fuck you,” Jared says, half-laughing, half-gasping. He can hear the undercurrent of concern in Jensen’s voice. He reaches out blindly with one hand. 

Jensen clasps it immediately, their fingers tangling together. 

“You gotta let me know if I’m hurting you. Let me know if you wanna stop.”

“I don’t,” Jared says, hoisting himself up a bit and half-turning his head, searching for Jensen’s mouth. They manage a kiss, open-mouthed and messy. The angle’s all wrong, but Jared loves it, loves the feel of Jensen’s mouth against his own.

Jensen’s thrusts become slower, more thorough. Their hips are grinding together now, their bodies practically fused together. 

Jensen presses his mouth to Jared’s shoulder. “Can you come like this?”

His hand wraps lightly, experimentally, around Jared’s cock, beginning to glide up and down.

“Fuck, yes.” Jared squeezes Jensen’s cock, buried deep inside him. “Please, yes.” He thrusts back against Jensen, trying to match his rhythm. It works. It really, really fucking works gloriously well.

“So fucking good,” Jensen says, his face buried in Jared’s hair.

“Wait, wait.”

“What?” Jensen asks, alarmed, stopping immediately. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jared says quickly, turning around and giving him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I just want to see you.” 

He rolls over onto his back. “Like this.”

Jensen smiles down at him, his hand gliding affectionately along Jared’s thigh. “Your wish is my command.”

“You’re such a sap,” Jared says around a gasp as Jensen slides into him again, wrapping his legs around Jensen’s hips.

“Mm,” Jensen says agreeably, smiling against Jared’s lips. 

“You like this?” Jared whispers back, cupping Jensen’s face with his hands.

“Can’t tell you how much.” Jensen keeps thrusting into him, slow and sure, his mouth trailing kisses and the occasional bite over Jared’s neck, his jaw, his shoulders. 

When they can’t talk anymore for kissing, Jared’s hands find Jensen’s again, their fingers entwining, and at some point, Jared finds his hands held above his head in Jensen’s strong grasp, their fingers still tightly linked together.

“This okay?” Jensen asks as they pull their mouths apart to get some air.

“Mm-hm. You’re thinking about tying me up, aren’t you?”

“Depends.” Jensen thrusts into him, making him cry out.

“On what?” Jared asks, gasping.

“Whether you like it.”

“I’ll love it. I’ll love anything you do to me.”

“Yeah?” Jensen is fucking him harder now, his movements less controlled.

Jared tugs his hands out of Jensen’s and wraps his arms around Jensen’s neck, his blunt fingernails raking through the soft spikes of Jensen’s hair and against his scalp. “C’mon, Ackles. Fuck me like you mean it,” he says, knowing Jensen is close.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

Jensen really lets go then, and Jared loves it, loves seeing Jensen’s dominant side in full force. Jensen grasps Jared’s ass in both hands and nearly lifts his hips off the bed as he fucks into him, making him cry out with each thrust.

“Come on,” Jared says, his nails digging into the sweaty skin of Jensen’s back, kissing Jensen hungrily, impossibly wanting more. “Come for me.”

“You first,” Jensen insists stubbornly, holding himself back, taking Jared’s cock in his hand again and stroking him in time with his thrusts. 

“Stubborn bastard,” Jared gasps, pulling Jensen’s head down for another desperate kiss. Jensen demands his orgasm from him, relentless in his stroking, and Jared cries out into his mouth as he comes all over Jensen’s fist and his own stomach.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Jensen says, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

“Asshole,” Jared says, smiling, his entire body tingling with pleasant aftershocks. 

Jensen kisses him gently. “Think you can come again?” he asks when he pulls back, grinning.

“We’ll see.” Jared clenches around Jensen’s cock, hard and buried inside his hole, and smiles when Jensen’s eyes flutter shut, his lips parting in a silent gasp of pleasure. “Your turn now.”

—

Later, he lies bonelessly in Jensen’s arms, completely spent, Jensen spooned up close behind him with his mouth pressed to Jared’s skin, trailing lazy kisses over his shoulder. His eyes fly open, startled, when a loud bang sounds somewhere in the distance, followed by a series of what sounds like explosions.

“What the hell was that?”

Jensen laughs. “Fireworks. Looks like we fucked our way into the next year.”

“I forgot,” Jared says with a sleepy grin, snuggling back down into Jensen’s arms.

“Sleep,” Jensen murmurs against his ear, his arms tightening securely around Jared. “We have all the time in the world to celebrate.”

—

Epilogue

If you really must know, yes, they totally ended up together. When Jared got his PhD four years later, Jensen gifted him a library of his own, in a new room at the top of the house, on the terrace that is Jared’s second favorite place to read. (The first is in bed, after sex, with his fingers trailing absently through Jensen’s hair as he lies asleep with his face pressed to Jared’s bare skin. Best afterglow ever.) 

And Jensen’s work? Well, it just got even more interesting with an Art History major as his partner, and if they go off on a secret heist or two now and then, it’s their business and no one else’s. (Don't worry, they only steal from sleazeballs who get rich by exploiting others.)

Oh, and they have three dogs and four cats, too. But that’s a story for another time.


End file.
